


Tipping is Mandatory; Topping is Optional

by annie_reckson



Series: The Full Moon Cafe [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blowjobs, Comeplay, Fingering, M/M, Restaurant!AU, Topping from the Bottom, bottom!Derek, messy sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-14
Updated: 2015-01-14
Packaged: 2018-03-07 14:29:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3176068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annie_reckson/pseuds/annie_reckson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It has to be because it’s a Thursday. Stiles could never get the hang of Thursdays</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tipping is Mandatory; Topping is Optional

**Author's Note:**

> So okay, I kinda changed the format. So instead of continually adding chapters to Kiss My Grits, I'm just going to make the whole thing a series, that way I can add little vignettes to it as I want. Without having to worry about keeping a cohesive story going. This is my first time doing things this way, so we'll see how it goes!
> 
> Also, you don't necessarily HAVE to read Kiss My Grits to understand this, but it will definitely help!

It has to be because it’s a Thursday. Stiles could never get the hang of Thursdays. There’s no other reason to explain why he’s having such an awful day. So far, he’s messed up two orders - even though he very clearly wrote down every detail of them - dribbled hot coffee onto some snooty business executive’s paperwork, tripped on his own feet at the dishpit and dropped plates everywhere, and now he’s trying to escape from a table that’s been just...too nice.

“Really Stiles, this is the best brunch I’ve had in the area. And you’ve been really awesome! Just fantastic!”

Yep. Definitely too nice. Stiles never trusted people that felt the need to over-compliment him. It never boded well for him in the end. He wasn’t a fan of making blanket statements, but there’s usually a reason people feel the need to lay their admonishments on that thick.

Sure enough, as soon as they leave, Stiles checks the receipt book as he’s cleaning the table and nearly throws it through the nearest window. Inside the book is a twenty dollar bill, a ten dollar bill, and two singles. Which would be perfectly acceptable if their bill hadn’t been twenty-eight dollars and some change.

Stiles snatched up the book and some plates and stormed to the back, oblivious to the obviously concerned looks that Scott was giving him. He knows he’s banging the dishes unnecessarily loud against the trashcan and slamming them down onto the metal table that divides the servers from the dishwasher, but he really doesn’t care right now. Peter starts to open his mouth to say something, but one glare from Stiles and he shuts up quickly.

Scott comes up behind him and lays a hand gently on his shoulder, “Hey, man,” He starts, giving Stiles a reassuring squeeze, “Why don’t you go take a breather in the walk-in for a few minutes?”

Stiles visibly deflates, sighs, and runs a hand down his face, “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.”

“I’ll keep an eye on your tables, okay?”

“Okay....okay....yeah. Thanks man.” Stiles forces the side of his mouth to turn up.

“Don’t mention it, you’d do the same for me,” Scott gives him the McCall Beaming Grin (tm), “Just hurry before the lunch crowd gets here.”

Stiles nods and weaves his way through the back of the restaurant until he gets to the heavy walk-in door. Luckily, the guys doing prep work are too focused on trying to finish their lists for the day to bother noticing him in their space. Which is good, because as much as Stiles likes the dudes and ladies that made all the fancy compotes, sauces, salad dressings, bread mixes, and vegetables and well...lots of other stuff, to be honest, for Full Moon Cafe, he knew he wasn’t in the right frame of mind to be cordial.

With a sigh, he heaves the door to the walk-in open and steps inside, shivering involuntarily. He ignores how cold it is and focuses on taking in deep breaths; inhaling and exhaling until he’s got his breathing going in a slow rhythm. The combination of the cool air and his focus on steadying his breath was already starting to clear his head.

He hears the door open behind him and starts to turn around to blurt out some reason he would be just standing in the middle of the walk-in when he feels two strong arms wrap around his back and shoulders. Stubble scrapes against the side of his throat as Derek nestles in the crook between his neck and shoulder.

Derek tightens his hold on Stiles, “I’m sorry.”

Stiles reaches up to grab on Derek’s arms, “You don’t have anything to be sorry for, unless you’re secretly some dark wizard hell-bent on me having the worst day ever.”

Derek chuckles and the vibrations shake them both, “No I meant...I knew you were having a bad day, I just didn’t realize how bad it was.”

“It’s alright. I might have gotten through it alright if my last table hadn’t just given me a verbal blowjob.”

He feels Derek cringe, “How bad was it?”

Stiles raises his voice in a mocking tone, “‘Oh Stiles, you’re so amazing and wonderful and this french toast tastes like it were made by Hestia herself’” Derek’s chuckles and Stiles clarifies, “Because Hestia was like, goddess of the hearth and baking and shit-

“Stiles. I’m familiar with Hestia.”

Stiles may love this man, “Anyways...then they left a 10% tip and I kinda lost it. I almost broke a few dishes. Again.”

“Hmm...” Derek murmurs against his skin, “Sounds like you deserve an actual blowjob to make up for all that.”

Stiles stutters and leans back against Derek, “Dude! We can’t do that at work! Any of the prep guys could come in here any minute now!”

“Stiles....” Derek says his name like a challenge as he lets one hand roam down Stiles’ chest, “For one, I have faith in my ability to get you off as quickly as I want to,” He lets his fingers dance right over the bulge that’s forming in Stiles’ jeans, “And for two,” He tugs Stiles around and suddenly they’re face-to-face, “I’m pretty sure that’s a health code violation.”

Derek steps away and Stiles audibly _whimpers_ , “You’re a cruel man, Derek Hale.”

“So I’ve been told,” Derek shrugs and grasps onto Stiles’ fingertips, “Take a couple more minutes, okay? I’ll make sure Scott’s taking care of your tables. And,” He takes a moment to rake his eyes up and down Stiles’ body, “Make plans to see me tonight.”

Derek leaves before Stiles can reply, leaving him alone once again in the chill air, which felt a lot colder now that he didn’t have the warmth of another body against him. The door opens again and Stiles quickly turns his head, hoping that it’s Derek come back, but it’s just one of the prep guys putting stuff away. Stiles ducks his head and grabs a few cartons of half and half just so he’ll have a reason for being there in the first place, then quickly steps out.

He’s already feeling lighter by the time he makes it back to the server alley, better able to take care of the rest of his customers for the day. His mood brightens even more when he notices the styrofoam cup sitting near the coffeemaker that has his name on it, written in Derek’s characteristic scrawl. It smells fantastic and he’s in love with it before he even takes a sip. The moan he lets out when the perfectly sweetened coffee goes down his throat is probably something he should be ashamed of, but he’s too focused on wondering how Derek knew exactly how he liked his coffee.

The man in question, however, is nowhere in sight, so Stiles isn’t able to ask him. Instead, he takes a few more sips of sweet, sweet caffeine and waits for Scott to come through the swinging door from the dining room. Every sip makes him appreciate the big, burly softie he’s starting to become attached to, even if it’s only been a few days since they’d first consummated this thing. And now that Stiles is getting more of a chance to get to know Derek, he knows that “consummated” is definitely a term he’d use. When Scott finally appears, Stiles knows he has a dopey grin on his face. _Oh how the tables have turned_.

“Scotty!” Stiles bursts out with a smile, “Is there _any_ way I could convince you to stay at Allison’s place tonight?

 

***

 

Stiles is wrist-deep in beef when he finally hears the knock on his door. It’s almost sort of poetic, that Derek would choose to arrive as soon as Stiles is somewhat incapacitated. He frowns a bit, there’s no way he’s touching the doorknob with raw beef, egg, and onions all over his hands; and he doesn’t want to make Derek wait while he washes his hands. The good Sheriff Stilinski had firmly taught him the importance of singing ‘Happy Birthday’ twice every time he washed and there simply wasn’t time for that.

Groaning, he thanks the heavens above that he usually leaves the apartment door unlocked, “Come on in!” He shouts, “And please be Derek, and not a robber or a serial killer.” He adds, slightly quieter.

He hears the door click open and looks up to see Derek smirking despite the furrow in his eyebrows, “You just leave your apartment unlocked?”

Stiles shrugs, “It’s a fairly safe neighborhood. All of our neighbors are pretty cool. Don’t worry though, we never leave it unlocked if we’re not here,” He gestures to the bag Derek’s holding, “Oh hey! You didn’t need to bring anything!”

Derek lifts the bag up and opens it, “I just brought some beer. Gotta be a good houseguest, y’know. Speaking of, is it alright that I locked the door behind me?”

“Yeah! Thanks, man! Make yourself comfortable, I’m guessing by now you know where the bottle opener is. Umm...I’m almost done here.”

“Are you making...” Derek cocks his head and it's ADORABLE, “Burgers?”

“Yeah uh...it’s one of the few things I can make well. When I was a teenager I started taking care of dinner for my dad and me and uh...as a ploy to get him to eat healthier I started making burgers with ground turkey instead of ground beef. I still don’t think he knows that they weren’t actually beef,” He looks up and sees the horrified look on Derek’s face, “Oh, don’t worry dude, these are 100% USDA ground beef! All-cow here, buddy!”

Derek exhales loudly, “Good. Is there uh...anything I can do to help?”

Stiles looks around, hands still kneading the meat, “Umm....The sweet potato fries are in the oven, I’m almost done here...I guess you can chop some veggies? There’s an onion, lettuce, and some tomatoes sitting on the cutting board. I’m going to start forming some patties.”

“Alright, I can take care of that,” Derek clears his throat as he starts slicing, “So, I had that large party when you were finishing up today and I didn’t get a chance to talk to you before you left...” He pauses.

Stiles chews on his bottom lip, “Yeah, you seemed pretty busy. I figured I’d just text you after I left and, of course, see you later.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I was just wondering how the rest of your day went. After we talked.”

“Oh. It was actually alright, I guess. Although I honestly think a lot of that had to do with me, y’know, being in a better mood.”

Derek throws a shy smile over his shoulder and it’s one of the most adorable things Stiles has ever seen. After that, the conversation varies; Derek tells him about a little girl he had at one of his tables that had a stutter but insisted on ordering for herself anyway, Stiles brings up all the pleading he had to do to get Malia to make him a latte with _all the flavors_.

“Stiles,” Derek’s whole face scrunches, “That’s disgusting.”

“Eh,” His nose twitches, “It was definitely way sweeter than any beverage should be.”

“Jesus. You probably gave yourself diabetes with that one drink.”

“Hey!” Stiles twists towards Derek and gestures down his torso, “Gotta take advantage of this fast metabolism while I still have it.” Derek’s gaze a little longer than Stiles expects, long enough that Stiles starts to feel self-conscious, "We don't all have that," He flicks his hand in Derek's direction, "Going on."

Derek smirks and raises an eyebrow at Stiles, which causes him to stammer a bit before turning back to the stove, where the pan is now hot enough to put the patties in. For his part, Derek seems to collect himself and switches his focus back to cutting perfectly-spaced onion slices. Stiles may or may not burn one of the burgers because he keeps glancing over his shoulder at Derek’s ridiculous figure while he’s chopping veggies.

Stiles makes sure he gets the burnt one.

He has to admit, part of it feels super casual; they eat standing at the kitchen counter, using paper towels as napkins, and Derek steals one of his fries with a shit-eating grin. It makes him wonder when he got so relaxed around Derek. Because a week and a half ago, he and Scott were still referring to teasing Derek about anything as “poking the bear.”

But Derek is definitely different from what he’d imagined; certainly more of a Care Bear than a grizzly bear, if he’s being honest with himself. And the little traces of Derek’s humor that Stiles used to chance a glance at in passing have increased exponentially, even at work.

Bottom line: Stiles likes this guy. A lot. Sure, he looks like he was crafted specifically to increase the amount of masturbatory orgasms the general public receives on a regular basis, but he’s also clever, witty, and good at cutting vegetables. And apparently into Stiles, judging by the way Derek looked at him while they ate. Really making Stiles question when the universe decided to actually send him good things.

Like now, when Stiles is trying to put the dishes and cookware in the sink and Derek is pressed up against him, nuzzling against his neck. At first, Stiles chuckles lightly, but they turn into groans as Derek presses up against him, gripping his waist. Stiles tilts his head back to better expose his neck and moves his hands from the sink to the counter; Derek immediately moves his hands to cover them.

Derek tugs on his earlobe, then whispers huskily, “I seem to remember promising you something...”

Stiles grinds out a “Fuck yes...” and uses his leverage from the counter to press back further against the solid mass behind him.

Derek is pressing scratchy kisses against the soft skin where Stiles’ neck and shoulder meet, and he can tell from the friction that it’ll definitely be red tomorrow. Which is fine, really, he can make up some excuse to not see his dad for a few days. And he is off tomorrow, so he can allow himself to just lean back and enjoy the feeling of Derek’s stubble grazing across his flesh.

It’s when Derek reaches for his belt buckle, though, that Stiles realizes that they’re still in the kitchen, “Derek,” He rasps out as he pulls away enough to turn and face the older man, “Sorry, just...Scott and I have a strict ‘bedroom only’ policy ever since the time I caught him and Allis-”

Derek holds up a hand, “You don’t need to finish that sentence. I can completely understand without knowing the full story.”

Stiles lets out a chuckle, but ends up choking it back in once he lets himself fully take in how amazing Derek looks right now with his pupils blown and his mouth red and swollen and open as he’s heaving breaths. It takes Stiles a moment to catch his beath and get his bearings.

He doesn’t get to admire for long, before Derek hooks his fingers just under the buckle on Stiles’ belt and tugs him towards the bedroom. The wolfish grin on Derek’s face is enough to make the erection rubbing against his zipper downright painful, so Stiles pushes forward to try and hustle them faster in the right direction. The quicker they make it to the sanctuary of his bedroom, the quicker he can shuck his jeans off.

True to his internal word, he nearly trips trying to get out of his jeans as soon as his bedroom door clicks shut. Derek raises an eyebrow at him and smirks, but follows his lead just the same until they’re both in just their boxer briefs. For a moment, Stiles starts to feel self-conscious. This certainly isn’t the first time someone’s seen him like this, fuck, this isn’t even the first time Derek has seen him like this, but having Derek’s gaze on him makes him want to rush and hide under the quilt on his bed. Because, well, when you compare the two of them, there isn’t really any comparison.

Derek stepped towards him and cupped his jaw, “I can hear all those gears turning, you know,” He raises his eyebrows, “Why don’t you shut it off for tonight, okay? Let me take care of you.”

Stiles cocks an eyebrow in turn, “Take care of me?”

Derek laces their fingers together and pulls him towards the bed, letting them drop carelessly onto it with Stiles on top of them. Derek’s smile is so easy this way, just the corners of his mouth turned up and showing the faintest hint of his adorable, uneven teeth that Stiles wants to lick. He doesn’t have time to really get used to it before Derek flips them and hovers over him, letting his eyes flick up and down Stiles’ face and torso.

“Yes,” His voice rumbles, “You had a rough day, let me make it better.”

“Oh really?” Stiles croaks out.

“Yeah really” Derek’s eyes widen and he smiles with all his teeth, “I’m going to cover your chest in stubble burn, then suck your cock until you’re writhing on the sheets,” He lowers until their lips meet and kiss sloppily, wet enough that when Derek pulls away there’s a thin thread of spit hanging between their lips, “Then I’m going to ride you into this mattress.”

“Fuck, Derek...you can’t expect me to last longer than a few seconds when you say things like that.”

Derek reaches down to palm the obvious bulge in Stiles’ briefs, “Just wait until I follow through.”

Stiles lets out an involuntary whine, "Please Derek, before my dick explodes and-"

"Stiles."

"Hmm?"

"Shut up."

Stiles is about to let out something sarcastic when Derek leans down and mouths at one of his nipples. Instead, Stiles gasps and arches off the bed, any thoughts of wryness lost. Derek chuckles, a vibration that travels across Stiles' chest. Stiles brings a fist up to bite down on when Derek covers his other nipple with his palm and rubs roughly against it, using the texture of his skin to add a barely-there friction.

Derek continues his path downward, letting his tongue do most of the work but frequently stopping to just nuzzle against Stiles’ pale and trembling skin. He bites down just on the right side of painful on the muscle just below Stiles’ ribcage and he arches off the bed again, crying out as his free hand shoots out and grasps onto the feathery-light hairs at the base of Derek’s skull. Then he’s licking again and Stiles looks down to see Derek greedily gathering up the precum that his cock has been steadily leaking since Derek filthily kissed him.

“Fuck...Derek...” is all he can manage out.

He wants to say, _Fuck, Derek, that is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen, you are the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen, I wish you would eat me alive_. But his words leave him when Derek finally sits back up on his haunches. The area around his mouth is glistening and Stiles knows that it’s a combination of spit and Stiles’ precum. Then there’s the way Derek is looking down on him: like he’s the most perfect piece of art that Derek has ever created.

Derek licks his lips and strokes up Stiles’ abdomen, “You have lube, right?”

Stiles nods and gestures towards the drawer in his nightstand. There’s a few bottles in there, because Stiles is a curious guy and he can’t help himself sometimes. He sincerely hopes Derek grabs the most basic one in there, because there’s also a bottle of glow in the dark lube, one of glittery lube, and a mint-flavored one. Stiles notices that Derek has taken advantage of his standing position to get rid of his last piece of clothing and hurriedly tugs his own briefs off while Derek's rummaging through the drawer

After a few seconds, Derek ends up grabbing the right one, as well as a condom, but only after raising his eyebrow and going, “Seriously, Stiles?”

Stiles scoffs, “Don’t lie dude, you know you want me to try the mint one on your dick.”

He waggles his own eyebrows suggestively - because, hey, two can play at the Eyebrow Game - and Derek blushes across his face and shoulders before smiling embarrassedly and rolling his eyes. Stiles is just about to elaborate on all the benefits of mint-flavored lube (possibly not having to brush your teeth before going back out into public!) when Derek leans down and takes just the head of his dick into his mouth. Derek starts to suck gently, pressing his tongue firmly against the soft head, and Stiles can do little more than just let his jaw hang open. Slowly, Derek takes in most of him, covering the rest with his fist. He’s panting openly as Derek bobs his head sloppily - wet with spit and precome - like Stiles’ cock is the best thing he’s ever tasted, while keeping his fist tight on the base, occasionally giving just the slightest twist

It’s all going to be over far too fast if he keeps his gaze on the amazing things happening between his legs, so he flicks his eyes up along the planes of Derek’s back. This, he realizes, might have been a mistake. Not that Derek isn’t breathtaking to behold, especially with the way his body is curved and undulating right now. No, the reason Stiles is regretting his decisions is because he notices the way Derek’s free arm is bent around himself. And the way it’s moving. It doesn’t take him more than a second to figure out what Derek’s doing - frantically fingering himself.

“Derek...fuck...Derek,” Stiles struggles to get his thoughts articulated, because he wants, “Let me...please, Derek. I want to.”

Derek moans around his cock, causing Stiles to nearly lose it, before licking up the vein on the underside and pulling off. He grins and licks around his own mouth before launching himself forward until he’s hovering over Stiles again. For a moment, Derek stays there and lets them pant into each other’s space.

Then he leans down and huskily whispers into Stiles’ ear, “Hey.”

Stiles chuckles, “Hey there.”

“Wasn’t there something you wanted to do?”

Stiles’ hips jerk up involuntarily as he hisses out multiple affirmatives. Derek grins against his lips and tugs one of Stiles’ hands out so he can dribble lube onto his fingers. Keeping their gazes locked, Derek slowly shifts position so that he’s straddling atop Stiles’ thighs and guides Stiles’ hand to the wet warmth between his cheeks. He’s done most of the work himself, so Stiles is able to easily glide two fingers in right away, scissoring them and pumping them in and out.

“Another,” Derek gasps out before too long, his eyes now clenched shut as he rocks back and forward while Stiles works him, “...please.”

Stiles bites his lip as he pulls his fingers out, takes a second to circle the rim where Derek is shuddering from the emptiness, then dips three fingers in. A little whining noise escapes Derek’s throat at the first insertion, but he soon adjusts to it and starts rocking even more furiously to fuck himself on Stiles’ fingers. Stiles reaches up with his free hand to pull Derek down for a messy kiss and Derek moans appreciatively into his mouth.

Abruptly, Derek’s movements slow down and he pulls away, “No...I want...” He’s barely moving now, in little jerks like he wants to be still but can’t stop himself fully, “If we keep this up...I’m going to come soon...”

“Yeah?” Stiles breathes out and curls his fingers inside Derek.

“Fuck! Stiles...” He finally opens his eyes, “I want to come with you inside me.”

Stiles tugs his bottom lip and groans at the idea, ”Yeah, yeah, we can definitely do that. We are definitely going to do that. Umm...are you ready?”

Derek nods rather than answering, like his brain’s lost the ability to formulate words. Stiles barely has time to pull his fingers out before Derek’s adjusted his position so that he’s just above Stiles’ groin. All Stiles can do is grasp the sheets and watch as Derek slides the condom on him and guides his cock to his own entrance. Then, Derek’s gently rocking himself down Stiles’ cock, flushed from his face all the way down his chest and his mouth is open and his eyes are shut again in a mixture of pain and pleasure and it’s probably the most beautiful sight Stiles has ever seen.

Finally, the bottom of Derek’s thighs make contact with Stiles’ skin and he makes the most unfair noises as he gets used to Stiles’ cock filling him. He sweeps his hands up until they’re splayed flat across Stiles’ chest and finally locks eyes with the man beneath him.

“Fuck, dude,” Stiles lets out, “You look so fucking hot right now, but between the noises you’re making and how fucking hot,” He flings his hands up to dig into the firm flesh of Derek’s thighs, “It feels being inside you, I need you to move or it’s going to be over embarrassingly quick.” He gives a few minute thrusts with his hips for emphasis.

Derek leans down to nip at his jaw, “So impatient.”

Still, it works, because when Derek sits back up, he immediately rolls his hips sensually, using his leverage against Stiles to get a rhythm going. The flex of his abdominal muscles as he moves is mesmerizing and Stiles moves one of his hands up until his fingers can feel the pulse of each muscle twitching. His other hand traces around Derek’s thigh until he can knead his fingers into one of the plush cheeks of his ass and encourage him to speed up.

Stiles thrusts up to match Derek’s movements and he can feel himself getting close. Suddenly, Derek shifts his weight to one arm and uses his now free one to start pulling fiercely on his own cock and Stiles nearly loses it. He knows he’s nearly on the cusp, but he really wants Derek to come first. While his hips continue their missive to be as much in Derek’s ass as possible, his hands roam until one is thumbing Derek’s nipple and the other is pressing against his stretched-out rim. Without warning, the arm Derek’s leaning on starts shaking and he grunts openly as come paints a distorted pattern across Stiles’ chest and belly. The clenching of Derek around him is enough to send Stiles over the edge and he shouts loudly as he feels himself emptying, thankful that Scott isn’t there.

Derek stays in his lap, breathing heavily, for a few moments, before gingerly leaning up and pulling Stiles out of him. While Stiles watches, Derek removes the condom for him, tying it off and tossing it into a trashcan. Then, he flicks his eyes up at Stiles before leaning down and licking the remaining come off of Stiles’ cock. Stiles wants to shoo him away because hey, that area is pretty sensitive right now, but his arms are refusing to cooperate and it’s actually really hot to watch. Just when the pressure becomes nearly unbearable, Derek shifts to start licking up his own come that’s splattered on Stiles. And Stiles wonders how often something Derek does is going to be the hottest thing he’s ever seen.

When Derek finishes, he sits back up and looks...almost embarrassed, “Sorry, it’s kind of a kink that I have....you probably think it’s weird-”

Stiles pushes himself up until their faces are inches apart, “No! Dude! That was...you are free to indulge whenever you please!”

Derek blinks slowly, “Yeah?”

“Umm...Yes! Yes. Anytime. I would even like, jack myself off and let you clean up afterwards if you wanted to, or like, give you the ol’ five-finger-jerk if that’s what you’d prefer or-”

Derek clamps a hand over his mouth and grins, “Stiles, I get it! Thank you!”

As if he doesn’t expect Stiles to lick his hand, which Stiles totally does, “Well good! So uh...why didn’t you do that...the last time?” He cringes a bit when Derek wipes his saliva-covered hand on Stiles’ bicep.

Derek shrugs and looks away, “It’s not something that everyone responds well to? I might not have this time but...I just couldn’t help myself.”

“Hey, don’t worry man,” Stiles lifts Derek’s chin with his finger then leans in to bite just a little bit roughly on Derek’s neck, savoring the deep gasp that escapes from Derek’s lips, “We all have our kinks.”

Derek rumbles out something that sounds like appreciation before tackling Stiles flat onto the bed and nuzzling his neck. In turn, Stiles wraps an arm around Derek’s back and tangles their legs together. He exhales loudly then tilts his head until his nose is buried in Derek’s thick hair.

“So,” Stiles asks the massive, hairy dude laying on top of him, “I guess we’re sleeping now?”

“Sleeping now. Then I’m going to make you eggs and bacon. Then I’m going to fuck you when we shower.” Every word Derek speaks vibrates against Stiles’ skin and seems to travel directly to his cock.

“Promises, promises.” Stiles squeaks out, trying to play it cool.

Derek shamelessly presses his thigh against Stiles’ groin, “I like to think I’ve made good on my promises so far.”

Stiles is seriously sending a fruit basket to the universe. As soon as he figures out a mailing address.

**Author's Note:**

> Do you enjoy hot tea, ugly sweaters, and Tyler Hoechlin's face? Omigod we already have SO MUCH in common, [let's be friends!](http://somnambulipstick.tumblr.com)


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